pENTS 



HE DISTRICT VISITOR 

By RICHARD MIDDLETON 
WITH A SHORT SKETCH OF HIS LIFE 


VAGABOND PLAYS—NO. 7A 





















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THE DISTRICT VISITOR 

BY 

R I C H A R D MIDDLETON 

WITH 

A SHORT SKETCH OF HIS LIFE 



VAGABOND SERIES 


THE NORMAN, REMINGTON COMPANY 
Publishers 
BALTIMORE 
1924 

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COPYRIGHT, 1924, BY 

THE NORMAN. REMINGTON CO. 



©C1A777809 

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 

APR-3 *24 


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RICHARD MIDDLETON 

Richard Middleton was born in Staines, Mid¬ 
dlesex, of English parentage, on October 28th, 
1882. Introspective and temperamental even as 
a child, he spent his school days hating his 
stupidly contented class-mates, hating the soot and 
ugliness of his London class-rooms, moping in 
deserted corridors, finding his only happiness in 
the beauties of Sunday evening chapels, and in 
the little sympathies tossed occasionally to him 
by older boys and masters. In 1901, school over, 
he became a clerk in the office of the Royal Ex¬ 
change Corporation, and held the position credit¬ 
ably for five years. It was during this time that 
his brilliant personality and unquestionable lit¬ 
erary genius brought him to the very heart and 
center of a brilliant group of literary men— 
Hilaire Belloc, Gr. K. Chesterton, Henry Savage, 
Frank Harris, George Francis Wilson—of whom 
he made life-long friends. With them he talked, 
and read omnivorously, and wrote and sought 
Bohemian joy in emotional excess. By 1906 his 
contributions of verse, and literary reviews, and 
short stories were appearing constantly in The 
Academy and Vanity Fair . He gave over clerking 
to devote his whole time to writing. Followed 


Hi 


a series of love affairs, and a profusion of good 
poetry (afterwards to be published in “Poems 
and Songs”). But though all of his contributions 
were being published in the English Review, the 
Evening Standard, the Saturday Review and 
T. P.’s Weekly, Middleton was finding his lit¬ 
erary career a very uncertain means of liveli¬ 
hood. His books were returning unaccepted from 
publishers, he was finding himself less and less 
inclined to work, and less inspired by compelling 
emotion. And money was scarce. A venture in 
Brussels with Henry Savage ended fatally. The 
two spent a quiet uneventful time there together 
for several months, before Savage returned to 
England and left Middleton entirely without 
friends. He grew more and more depressed by 
what his poverty led him to believe was his fail¬ 
ure, until on October 10th, 1911, absolutely alone 
and penniless, he committed suicide by poisoning. 
It was scarcely two weeks later that “The Ghost 
Ship” was accepted by an American publisher, 
and became quickly recognized as an English 
short story classic. By 1913, every one of the 
books that he had tried in vain to sell during his 
life time were in print: “The Ghost Ship and 
other Stories”; “Poems and Songs”; “The Day 
Before Yesterday”—essays on Childhood; and 
“Monologues”—a book of general essays. 

A. W. F. 


iv 


THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


Only Production in America 
at 

The Vagabond Theater 
January 3, 1921 

CAST OF CHARACTERS 

DOROTHY.Mrs. C. Hughes Manly 

PHILIP.John McGrath 

DISTRICT VISITOR.Clapham Murray, Jr. 

-> 

Staged by Edmonia Nolley 


The Professional and Amateur Stage rights of this play are strictly reserved. 

Application for permission to produce it should be made to The Norman, 
Remington Co., Baltimore, Md. 






THE DISTRICT VISITOR 

By Richard Middleton 


Dramatis Personae 

Dorothy . 

Philip. 

District Visitor . 


Night: Philip sits writing at a little table facing 
the audience. As he writes he talks aloud, because he 
is tipsy with hunger. 

PHILIP 

A new form of art, if only I conld remember the 
words of the right color! Splendid and torch and 
power all good red words. Mystery is yellow, 
bitterness is grey, eternity is black. I want some 
bine words to mix with mystery for the grass. 
Blue words, bine words, Heaven help the idiot 
who compiled this dictionary! Dorothy! 

(.Dorothy is sitting in a deep armchair at the back 
of the stage, almost hidden from the audience. When 
he calls she raises her head with an effort.) 


7 






THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


DOROTHY 

Yes, dear. 

PHILIP 

What are yon thinking of? 

DOROTHY 

The rent’s not paid and the landlord- 

PHILIP 

Shylock, a Jew. 

DOROTHY 

Will turn ns into the street. 

PHILIP 

(With a groan) 

Only bine by association. Street and rent are 
both red, landlord seems to me to be salmon-pink. 
Can’t you remember any bine words, darling? 

DOROTHY 

Are yon very hungry, Philip? 

PHILIP 

So, so. I’m afraid it’s hurting you. 

DOROTHY 

Not much. Only the waiting for something to 
happen- 


8 


THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


PHILIP 

Rich or poor, we’re all waiting for something 
to happen, and probably if we only knew, it’s 
happening now. Now, if some moonstruck editor 
would send me a cheque- 

DOROTHY 

I’m afraid editors have very thick heads. 

PHILIP 

I have sometimes thought that myself. 

DOROTHY 

And the moon can’t get through to their brains. 

PHILIP 

Moon is a blue word, so a mysterious moon 
should be green. There’s something in that- 

DOROTHY 

If the landlord turns us out we shan’t be able 
to wait any longer. 

PHILIP 

( Writing ) 

Bearing splendid torches through a mysterious 
moon till our bitterness merged into eternity. A 
pillar-box near a green field at night-fall. I should 
like to see the damned critics appreciate the 
subtlety of that—two definite and distinct inter¬ 
pretations to one sentence. 


9 



THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


DOEOTHY 

If the landlord turns ns into the street- 

PHILIP 

{Musingly) 

A peeled salmon in a sea of blood. 

DOEOTHY 

{Revolted) 

Philip! 

PHILIP 

Yes, dear. 

DOEOTHY 

Yon frighten me when you talk like that. 

PHILIP 

I’m sorry. I only wanted to frighten myself. 
I don’t want to talk about beefsteaks. 

DOEOTHY 

Poor Philip! 

PHILIP 

Bloody ones with gristle. That’s Kipling. I 
can’t forget these things. 

DOEOTHY 

I think that tomorrow if nothing happens- 

10 




THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


PHILIP 

Well? 


DOROTHY 

Something will happen. 

PHILIP 

No. Tomorrow morning I’ll sell some of the 
furniture. 

DOROTHY 

But it belongs to the landlord. 

PHILIP 

I think sometimes that we belong to the land¬ 
lord. We’ll tell Shylock we’ve eaten his arm¬ 
chair. A sofa on toast with little mushrooms and 
chopped parsley. 


DOROTHY 

I think I heard a knock. 

PHILIP 

It’s your fancy knocking against the walls of 
your head because it cannot sleep. 

DOROTHY 

No, I’m sure I heard a knock. 

PHILIP 

{Rising) 

Perhaps it’s the postman with a cheque. 


11 


THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


DOROTHY 

It’s much too late for the postman. It must be 
the landlord come for the rent. 

PHILIP 

{Sitting down again ) 

Perhaps he will break his neck on his damned 
stairs. Then we can pick his pockets. 


DOROTHY 

It will make him angry if we don’t go down. 


PHILIP 

He will forget that anger when he finds that we 
can’t pay him. 


DOROTHY 

I can hear his feet on the stairs. 

PHILIP 

If I am strong enough I will throw him out of 
the window. 

(There is a knock at the door and the District Visitor 
enters without waiting for an answer. He looks like a 
nonconfonnist parson, carries a J)lack bag and wears 
button boots, black suede gloves too long in the fingers.) 


D. V. 

Mr. Philip Oldcastle? 


12 


THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


PHILIP 

That is my name. What do yon want? I sup¬ 
pose yon have come from the landlord? 


d. v. 

No; at least, not exactly. It’s rather an unusual 
case. You see, Mr. Oldcastle, my name is Death. 

PHILIP 

I do not think that very likely. 


d. v. 

(. Affronted) 

And why not, sir? 

PHILIP 

Because you are reputed never to come when 
you are wanted. 


d. v. 

(.Resting his hag on a chair) 

I am glad to hear that for once I am welcome. 
My experience is that, though people often call 
for me, they are always irritated when I arrive. 

DOROTHY 


(Politely) 

Your experience must be a wide one, Mr. Death. 


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THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


D. V. 

I’m afraid I may have given yon a wrong im¬ 
pression. I should have made it clear that I am 
merely Death’s representative for the Parliament¬ 
ary Division of Battersea. 

DOROTHY 

(Disappointed) 

Oh, I see. 


PHILIP 

But granting your credentials, I still find this 
personal visit a little extraordinary. You have 
come for us? 


d. v. 

I have come for one of you. 

DOROTHY AND PHILIP 

We refuse to he separated! 

d. v. 

I’m very sorry; these awkward situations are 
only too common. But the notice is only made 
out for one. 


PHILIP 

And for which of us, pray? 


d. v. 

(Fumbling in Ms black bag, and pulling out a docu¬ 
ment. ) 


14 


THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


That is just the difficulty under which I am 
laboring. You see, the name is quite clear— 
Philip Oldcastle. But an unfortunate blot renders 
it impossible for me to say whether the order is 
made out for Mr. or Mrs. Philip Oldcastle. In my 
experience, the accident is unique. 

PHILIP 

It seems to me to be a piece of abominable care¬ 
lessness. 

d. v. 

( Nervously ) 

I had hoped that the condition of health of one 
of you would have enabled me to venture- 

PHILIP 

In fact, you were going to bet your arm. 


d. v. 

As far as I comprehend the significance of that 
popular phrase, I was. 

PHILIP 

You seem to me to be a precious rascal. 

DOROTHY 

(. Interposing ) 

Philip, you have not offered Mr. Death a chair. 

D. V. 

('Waving the suggestion aside) 

I should be sorry to cause any unnecessary un¬ 
pleasantness. 


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THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


PHILIP 

It will take all your time to do that. 


d. v. 


But I am prepared to meet you in a reasonable 
spirit. 

PHILIP 

Our name is Reason. Mr. and Mrs. Philip Rea¬ 
son. 


d. v. 

Ha! Ha! Very good; very good, indeed. Now 
I thought perhaps an appeal to chance- 

PHILIP 

You propose that we should toss for it? 


d. v. 

The—er—spin of a coin- 


PHILIP 

We haven’t got one. 

D. V. 

(Producing half a crown) 

I had foreseen the possibility. 

PHILIP 

Very well, we’ll toss you double or quits. 


16 


THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


d. v. 

I’m afraid I don’t quite understand. 

PHILIP 

You can have both of us or none. It’s simple 
enough. 

d. v. 

{Angrily) 

You must see that what you suggest is quite 
impossible. 

PHILIP 

Then you will have to lump it. 


D. V. 

(. Pleadingly) 

You are making it very hard for me. 

PHILIP 

Your professional reputation is a matter of com¬ 
plete indifference to me. Your personality I find 
objectionable. 

DOROTHY 

Philip! 


PHILIP 

(Waxing eloquent) 

I don’t like your seedy whiskers, or your boots 
or your beastly gloves, or your nasty little black 
bag. 


17 


THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


D. V. 

You are grossly personal, sir. 


PHILIP 

You have the air of a fraudulent commercial 
traveler! 


d. v. 

I warn you- 

PHILIP 

A hypocritical undertaker’s man! 


d. v. 

I warn you- 

PHILIP 

An incompetent baby-stealer! 


d. v. 

You will be sorry presently for this! 

PHILIP 

My dear idiot, it’s clear to me that you are help¬ 
less. If you make a mistake you will lose your 
job. That order’s not worth the paper it’s writ¬ 
ten on. 


d. v. 

(.Pulling out a Swan fountain pen) 

But it is within my power to alter it. 


18 


THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


DOEOTHY 

(In alarm) 

Oh, Philip, be careful what you say! 

PHILIP 

My dear, he doesn’t know which name to put. 
In any case we can report the circumstance to 
head office and get him the sack. 


d. v. 

(Writing) 

Very well, you will realize the extent of my 
powers. You see ? I have made it Mister. 

DOEOTHY 

Oh, Philip, you mustn’t go without me. 

PHILIP 

If I do it won’t be for long. Mr. Death will be 
looking for a new berth presently. 


d. v, 

( T riumphantly ) 

That’s where you’re mistaken. Furthermore, I 
have endorsed it “Gone, left no address.” 

PHILIP 

Well, and what of it? 


d. v. 

I will return the order so marked to the author- 

19 


THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


ities, and your name will be crossed off the reg¬ 
ister. Yon have found life pleasant, haven’t you, 
Mr. Oldcastle! Well, you’ll have to make the 
best of it, for now- 

PHILIP 


Gfo on. 

d. v. 

You’re immortal! 

(To his astonishment both Philip and Dorothy burst 
into extravagant laughter, rendered almost hysterical 
by starvation .) 


PHILIP 

{Rolling on his chair and dabbing his face with his 
handkerchief) 

Good Lord, what a child the man is. An inno¬ 
cent, sucking babe. And did I call him nasty 
names, did I? Oh! 

d. v. 

( Sullenly) 

I don’t understand. 


PHILIP 

Of course you don’t! Why should you? The 
little child that lightly draws its breath- 


d. v. 

If this is a madhouse- 


20 



THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


PHILIP 

(■Pulling himself together ) 

No, infant. But it is the one honse in Battersea 
whose inmates are absolutely convinced of their 
immortality. 

d. v. 

( Mystified ) 

And yet you welcomed me just now. 

PHILIP 

Of course we did, because our environment is 
momentarily unpleasant. To our minds you rep¬ 
resent a shaking of the dice box, a cutting of the 
pack. But we know that you alone are mortal, 
evanescent—what shall I say? Why, man, you 
are as transitory as the measles! 

d. v. 

But now you will have to endure your environ¬ 
ment. 

PHILIP 

I doubt it. I think it unlikely that the laws 
that govern this suburb will be overthrown to save 
your face. If I lie down in front of a steam roller, 
gravity wdll change my environment. Are you 
stronger than gravity? It has nailed your feet 
to this floor! 

d. v. 

You would have me cut a sorry figure in the 
world. 


21 


THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


PHILIP 

You must not make me alone responsible. Chris¬ 
tianity grants yon power over the worthless sedi¬ 
ment of our entities. The ignorant savage, bury¬ 
ing his parents with a box of sardines by their 
side, denies you even that. It is possible to doubt 
your existence; it is impossible to find you im¬ 
portant. And the more I consider the circum¬ 
stances the clearer it becomes to me that you are 
here to do our bidding. 


d. v. 

(. Evasively ) 

I hope I can see a joke even when it is at my 
expense. 


PHILIP 

If only you weren’t so sordidly ugly. You 
weren’t always like that, you know. 


D. V. 

Really, Mr. Oldcastle. 


PHILIP 

You used to ride in armour on a fiery horse 
and slay with a flaming sword. Now, didn’t you? 


d. v. 

Upon my word, I never did. I have always been 
just the same. 

PHILIP 

Ah, I thought as much. Death, you ’re a fraud! 

22 


THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


D. V. 

I solemnly declare. 


PHILIP 

Shut up, and listen while I make my phrases. 
You’re a fraud because you are not beautiful. 
You’re a fraud because you are not logical. How 
can you pretend to finish the life of a man like 
me, with all my fine hopes and discovered dreams? 
^Esthetic considerations alone would convince me 
of my immortality when confronted by such a 
death as you. It is impossible that I have fared 
so far to be strangled by a bandit with the man¬ 
ners of a jobbing dentist? 


d. v. 

This regrettable violence of tone- 


PHILIP 

The jargon! The jargon! Oh, I believe you 
now when you say that your name is death. I 
have seen your sordid pageants in the street, your 
fat black horses, your bobbing feathers, your 
starved and shivering footmen conducting a yel¬ 
low box in a showcase to a field covered with mon¬ 
strous wedding-cake ornaments, and I have asked 
myself who this Death could be, that was satisfied 
with so poor a ritual. 


d. v. 


My dear sir! 


23 



THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


PHILIP 

Yon make ns ridiculous where, if you had any 
real significance, you would make us noble. You 
come slinking in behind the doctor and afflict a 
man with an absurd disease like the mumps. We 
cover his eyes with pennies and tie up his jaw, 
and hide him away so that our children may re¬ 
tain a decent pride in human nature. But we 
know that it is not the end. The thing’s incred¬ 
ible—a wood-louse would command a braver 
destiny. As for a poet- 


d. v. 

A poet! 


PHILIP 

I tell you, man, it will take a god to destroy 
me, and he will destroy me as he made me, with 
sweat and tears and anguish of heart. Even then 
I shall leave my inspirations, that part of me 
which lies beyond his power of creation, like a 
stain of blood on his murderous hands. 


d. v. 

I did not know that you were a poet. I should 
have been more careful. 

PHILIP 

You are fit to rock tired babies to sleep, and 
as far as I can see you are fit for nothing else. 
For the rest I know that you are less, and not 
more, than man. If I choose I can throw you 


24 



THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


out of the window, and there will be no more 
deaths in Battersea. But you may be useful to me. 

d. v. 

{Limply) 

Anything I can do, I’m sure- 

PHILIP 

My wife and I are not satisfied with our apart¬ 
ments here in life. The skies are overcast, the 
beds are hard, and the food is insufficient and 
badly served. We want a change. We want 
a better place to live in, a place with blue skies, 
where the necessaries of life are cheaper. I do 
not ask you whether it lies within your power to 
give us this, because I am certain that you do 
not know. All I require of you is that you should 
come when we call you. 


d. v. 

I will come. 

PHILIP 

Very well. I don’t think there’s anything more 
this evening to keep you from your business. 

I), v. 

One moment, Mr. Oldcastle. I’m sorry our 
interview has been marred by a little unpleas¬ 
antness, but I should like to say that I shall not 
forget your noble and inspiring remarks. Such 
as I am, man has made me, but if there were more 
men like you to cheer me on to the attainment of 


25 



THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


some ideal, I am sure I should play my part with 
a better grace. See now, I have tom up the order. 
I give you and your good lady u carte blanche 7 ’ 
to die when you please. Good-night, sir; good¬ 
night, madam. 

PHILIP 


Good-night. 


DOROTHY 

Do. .be careful; the stairs are so dangerous. 

{Exit d: V.) ' 


PHILIP 

There he’s gone. Poor, well-meaning chap. It’s 
a pathetic thing to be the only mortal in a world 
of immortals. 


DOROTHY 

I think you w'ere rather hard on him, Philip. 
After all, lie has his qualities. 

PHILIP 

• Qualities?;. 

DOROTHY 

I don’t know. It has always seemed to me that 
he is kind to children. There are other things, 
too; but I can’t think of them now, I’m so hungry. 

PHILIP 

I, too, darling. We come back to that, don’t 
we? 


26 


THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


DOROTHY 

I’m tired of waiting for something to happen. 
I want to sleep and forget all about it. 

PHILIP 

All right. Let’s lie down side by side on the 
sofa. I’ll turn the gas on, and we’ll have a good 
night’s rest. 

DOROTHY 

The gas? 


PHILIP 

Yes. We’ll have our friend back. It’s easy for 
us to die, because we know that we are immortal. 
What do we risk? 

(He turns the gas out and on again. The stage is 
quite dark) 


PHILIP 

There. That ought to alter things a bit. Where 
are you, old girl? 


DOROTHY 

Here, Philip. 

PHILIP 

Ah, that’s better, side by side, light out of the 
darkness. 


27 


THE DISTRICT VISITOR 


DOROTHY 

When the landlord comes in the morning. 


PHILIP 

He will turn ns into the street. Yes. But we 
shall not be here. 


DOROTHY 

I wonder ! 

PHILIP 

So do I; that has always been my pride. 
(A pause ) 


PHILIP 

I can hear the beating of your heart. 


DOROTHY 

And I the singing of yours. 

PHILIP AND DOROTHY 

Good-night, love! 

(A long pause) 

DOROTHY 

Good gracious, Philip, what a strong smell of 
gas. Oh! I forgot- 

(.Philip chuckles aloud in the dark). 


28 



DRAMA 

VAGABOND ONE-ACT PLAYS: First Series 

The Double Miracle: A Melodrama. By Robert 
Garland 

On Vengeance Height: A Tragedy. By Allan Davis 
and Cornelia C. Vencill 

Pan in Ambush: A Comedy in Verse. By Marjorie 
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The Importance of Being a Roughneck: A Bur¬ 
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The Conflict: A Drama. By Clarice V. McCauley 

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Paper covers, $1.00 

Fidelity to historical accuracy has not impaired the dra¬ 
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again for us in the words they speak. 

POETRY 

Wild Cherry. Second Edition. In Slip Case. $1.50 
Spicewood. Second Edition. In Slip Case. $1.50 

By Lizette Woodworth Reese. 

The author of “Tears,” one of the great lyrics in the English 
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Shafts of Song. By James L. McLane, Jr. $2.00 

By the author of “ Driftwood” and “Spindrift,” whom the 
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Hoofs of Pegasus. By Letitia Stockett. $1.50 

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